


Biscuits

by CupofTia



Series: Strike and Wolfgang Adventures [1]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Troubled Blood Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupofTia/pseuds/CupofTia
Summary: A ridiculous one-shot of Strike visiting Max before Robin’s birthday, featuring the MVP of Troubled Blood, Wolfgang the sausage.*TROUBLED BLOOD SPOILERS AHEAD*
Relationships: Robin Ellacott & Cormoran Strike, Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Strike and Wolfgang Adventures [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965541
Comments: 17
Kudos: 44





	Biscuits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hobbeshalftail3469](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/gifts).



> Okay, so I had a lovely comment on the fic I posted earlier (two fics in one night?Talk about living on the edge!) saying that it’s a shame there was no reference to Strike’s incredible line in Lethal White, “BAD DOG! NO BISCUIT!” but that it would require quite a niche fic.
> 
> Anyway, my brain saw it as a challenge, ran with it and this happened.
> 
> Also, it’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep, so I cannot be held responsible for my actions.

Cormoran knocked on the door, grimacing through the downpour that had chosen the moment he left the tube station to make its appearance. Bloody typical.

He stood awkwardly whilst he waited, trying to shield Robin’s card and gift from the rain underneath his coat. He thought Robin’s front door looked different to the last time he’d been here, though he conceded that he had been slightly shy of sober the last time.

The door opened at last and taking in Strike’s bedraggled appearance, Max ushered him inside as he said,

“Cormoran, hi! Come in, come in, it looks miserable out there.”

Stepping inside the hallway, Strike handed Max Robin’s birthday surprises and shoved his hands in his pockets in an effort firstly to warm them and secondly to hide his awkwardness. He liked Max but he didn’t know him that well. He also worried that he’d hardly made a great first impression on Robin’s flatmate.

“Thanks for this, Max, really appreciate it.”

“No worries! I have to be in work early on the actual day but I’ll make sure to leave these out for her.” He said, smiling warmly. “Speaking of my work, I don’t suppose you’d mind if I asked you just a couple more questions? I’m willing to bribe you with tea and biscuits.”

Never one to turn down tea and especially biscuits, Strike agreed, deciding that he was in no rush to go back out into the rain anyway. Plus, it seemed the perfect opportunity to make a good second impression, something that he was quite keen to do for reasons he preferred not to dwell on.

When he got upstairs, he was greeted by a delighted Wolfgang, his tail wagging enthusiastically at the appearance of a new friend.

A few biscuits into their conversation, Max’s phone rang. “Ah shit, it’s work, dya mind?” He asked Strike.

“Go for it.” Strike insisted through a mouthful of digestives.

As soon as Max had left the room, Wolfgang took the opportunity to persuade their guest that he was in fact allowed to beg for food.

Strike wasn’t fooled. As he looked down into the dog’s pathetic, longing eyes he gave him a stern look and scolded, “No. Bad dog, no biscuit!”

Wolfgang whimpered, his eyes somehow growing even wider.

Strike looked around to avoid his mournful gaze and his eyes landed fondly on a photo of Robin and her Mum, laughing at some unknown joke.

Looking back down at Wolfgang, Cormoran suddenly found his resolve had softened.

Glancing around to make sure Max wasn’t around, he caved, “Oh go on then, have some biscuit.”

Max re-entered to find Wolfgang vigorously licking Strike’s fingers, determined to get every last crumb.

“Sorry about that.” He said, rejoining Strike. “But aaw. Look at you two. Looks like Robin’s got some competition.”

“What?” Strike stammered, almost choking on his tea.

“For Wolfgang’s affections.” Max said calmly, sipping his own tea.

Swearing that Max was hiding the beginnings of a smirk behind his mug, Cormoran was quite sure that he hadn’t meant Wolfgang’s affections at all.


End file.
